


Can't remember how you got under my skin

by MaybeMagpies



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Amnesia, Episode 103 Spoilers, F/F, Temporary Amnesia, episode 103 au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25564012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaybeMagpies/pseuds/MaybeMagpies
Summary: She learned their names and filed them neatly in gaps shaped perfectly for them. Fjord, Caduceus. Jester, Yasha. They looked lost, more than she felt, almost desperately quiet and grasping for things that felt important.  The others fretted - Caleb, Veth (she felt that wasn’t the only name she knew her by). And this other one, Vylia, not one of them, but close enough to offer healing. Give them back who they were.She almost reached out. Almost.--In which Beau also fails the saving throw. Only, for messy reasons, she isn't sure she wants to remember. Episode 103 tiny AU.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 11
Kudos: 151





	Can't remember how you got under my skin

**Author's Note:**

> I think my new MO is 'go months being too busy to write, get a sudden Great Idea, heave it out in a few days'.
> 
> But! Episode 103 gave me a great idea, and I decided to give it a whirl and use it to poke and prod at Beau and Jester and give these characters a try before I look into something deeper.

As is to be expected when your friend (?) sets their dome anywhere near a beach, she woke up to sand crawling under her nightclothes, scrawled red on her skin.

She rolled awake and upright, greeted by familiar mumbling and grumbling. The quiet whisper of distant waves and mutterings of the forest nearby was less so, punctuated by chaos as the smallest of them bemoaned her reduced hoard as they stretched and dressed.

Fuck. The sand  _ itched _ .

She didn’t quite think as habit guided her hands- hair up, sash on, pack up her sleeping roll with care disguised as nonchalance. The routine felt right - something else didn’t quite  _ fit _ .

Not just that her thoughts felt hazy, like she was still in a dream (the kind where you _ know _ you should _ know _ , because that’s the logic of the dream, but you _ don’t  _ because this isn’t real and the world shifts accordingly). 

Some things were sharper, almost there in her mind’s eye. A cat turning into a bird, the island’s village, tossing a box down to her friends. The hag-thing from yesterday, crumpling under its will. Owls, and tar, and a huge fucking  _ dinosaur _ , and firebloom swaying in dark water. She remembered the Vokodo prick, feeling like she’d stared down similar monsters before. 

A few day’s worth of adventures that should be enough for a lifetime, probably just a taste of what they’d known. This was clear, but where was the rest?

This safety, this comfort that her instincts said were exceptions to every rule.  _ You can let your guard down _ , part of her breathed- but why? For what reason? She couldn’t name it, couldn’t name  _ them. _

_ Well, they’re here now. They’ll come to her, let her know what’s up and what’s down, what’s left and what’s right, and show her instincts were right to trust them.  _

They’d call her, by… by some boy’s name, she knew, and it would be alright. 

She scratched at her arm, rubbed at her hair, shook some sand out of her clothes - the itch remained. In the back of her head and speckled over her shoulders, now. 

\--

So she wasn’t the only one affected. 

That wasn’t good. 

She learned their names and filed them neatly in gaps shaped perfectly for them. Fjord, Caduceus. Jester, Yasha. They looked  _ lost _ , more than she felt, almost desperately quiet and grasping for things that felt important. The others fretted - Caleb, Veth (she felt that wasn’t the only name she knew her by). And this other one, Vylia, not one of  _ them _ , but close enough to offer healing. Give them back who they were.

She almost reached out, almost, when she saw a light return to Jester’s eyes. Something bright and  _ important _ . Something that immediately dimmed as a realization seemed to knock the air from her lungs. 

She didn’t need to ask why that felt so crucial. 

Jester bumped shoulders with her, exhaling what she might have had left. Tried on a smile, full of teeth.  _ To try and hide what bothered her. _

“That was scary, huh?” She offered a laugh, a very good one. It felt just as  _ off  _ as this whole memory thing. “Avocado’s  _ really _ going after us now. He wants our stuff soooo bad - like, he’s so jealous.”

Jester leaned in, conspiring. “He’s using all our spell slots on this too, Beau. I bet he doesn’t want us to challenge him or something, to get our stuff back.”

There was something left unsaid, there. Something that was still lost despite the memories.

The name felt right, though, and the decision of what to do next.

“I know, right?” she -  _ Beau _ \- said.

Beau didn’t have spell slots to forget, nothing remotely divine in her bones. The others - they’d need everything they had, she decided as the conversation drifted onward, to get to this _ butthole _ , to fight for their lives and minds if they needed it. 

Jester and Caduceus and the druid needed to be able to bring them back from the dead if need be. Her fists could work well just fine, even if she couldn’t remember who taught her that. She could pick up bits and pieces and make her whole story again in the meantime - someone had told her she had a knack for investigation, too.

Her self, her memories. They could wait.

(A decent excuse.)

Someone patted her shoulder, a firm  _ one-two _ . To her credit, she didn’t jump - that at least felt normal. His eyes weren’t searching or suspicious, just crinkled by a grin. He didn’t seem to notice how her mind shuffled over what she’d learned, put a name to the face - Fjord. 

“Hey- come on, we’re going.”

“ _ To the butthole! _ ” 

The halfling and -  _ Veth _ and  _ Jester  _ cheered. The lanky man, seated nearby (Cay-leb?) parroted it back with a little smile of his own, getting crowded for his trouble. 

She -  _ Beau _ \- shoved Fjord, hard, and laughed along. Without meaning to, she kept pace with him, as easy as breathing. Let her friends lead the banter, contributing from her spot in the front where she could. Catching what she didn’t really know to use later, realizing no one really  _ noticed _ . 

The weight nestled into her heart just a little more firmly, and she was just a little scared.

Fuck.

\--

It wasn’t just sand, she realized, under the weight of humid air and that feeling of being watched. 

She’d figured it out while trying to keep up with Veth’s weaving trail of thought. 

“So Caleb - he used my jade rabbit to make that programmed image last night,” Veth whispered - a little high, words coming out filed and more  _ pointy _ , if that made sense, than you’d expect for a halfling (Beau hadn’t made sense of that gap just yet).

She remembered that much at least - the tentacled horror let them keep what memories they’d made on the island, she’d found. She would have to thank Caleb (what was he - sorcerer, wizard? Maybe a necromancer, if Fjord’s jib about his ‘old stink’ held any weight. He felt too nervous for that.) for it later- what images she could remember filled in some gaps.

Beau, dashing madly through a misshapen seaside hovel. Beau, walking smartly behind Caleb and a drow with a raised brow. Beau, almost losing her grip on a tree limb as a goblin shot her in the ass with a  _ gun _ . Beau, dressed to the nines, leaning heavily on Fjord, dazzled by things she couldn’t see. Beau, fighting almost back-to-back with Yasha, black and blue blurs. Beau, sparring (re: getting her ass handed to her) with blurry figures.

There were more, probably - she would have paid more attention had she known she’d needed to.

(There were a lot of her and Caleb, her and Fjord, her and Yasha. Her and Jester, Jester, Jester.)

Beau, Beau, Beau. It didn’t quite feel like  _ her _ .

She didn’t get a word in before Veth tumbled on, slipping up and over a mess of branches with ease. 

“But - and hear me out here - what if he used your tattoo?” She paused as Beau clambered around the crown of the fallen tree, cursing at one poking her thigh. 

“Like, would he have to give you a weird back rub and  _ poof! _ Moving illusions sponsored by Beau?”

Veth balanced on a thick bough, surefooted, her eyes almost shiny. The tattoos around them winked at her in the jungle’s half-shadows.

“I dunno.” Jester piped in - her tail curling and unfurling as she waited for Beau to make it through the surprisingly difficult terrain that constituted the tangle of branches. Beau didn’t look at _ her _ eyes or  _ he _ r tattoo, peeking out from underneath her cloak. Focused on where she put her feet as she made her way through and over. Focused on tugging her feet out of the grasp of twigs that look like claws. 

“I mean, didn’t Orly’s tattoos already have, like, a bit of magic in them? Would that mean Caleb couldn’t use the dust?”

“Or maybe it’ll make the illusions even  _ cooler _ .” 

Beau exhaled through her nose.  _ She didn’t know who Orly was _ . Caleb’s face came to her exactly as it was this morning, not a hair younger or cleaner or different at all. She grit her teeth and snapped a branch that proved difficult to step over.

“I’m not sure it’s even jade though,” Jester hummed. She used some vines to hoist herself up a few feet, peering over Veth and Beau’s heads. Probably at the rest of the party, getting farther and farther while Beau fought with a dead plant and _ lost _ . “Didn’t Orly ask for emerald?”

She felt like she was intruding on her own life as she asked, “Is there supposed to be a difference? They’re both green. They both cost a helluva lot.”

“Well. Yeah - magic is very picky about that, I think. I wouldn’t know, ‘cause the Traveler just, you know, helps me  _ do _ things.” 

Satisfied with what she saw (the others must be waiting, based on a whisper of discussion that reached Beau), Jester gave her a bright smile. Again, just a little…  _ off,  _ wavering a bit like when she had mentioned the Traveler. 

“I bet Caleb would know!”

“Are there any magic rules about. Like. Using components that are in your body or someone else’s?”

Veth shrugged - the limb beneath her complained at the movement. “Only one way to find out!”

The halfling inhaled sharply, probably to call for Caleb, and-

Beau’s focus wavered.

_ She tripped over the damn branches. _

She went down cursing, the tumble just enough to get her clear of the mess. A half-rotten stump crumbled under her lower back, some sturdier branches stinging her knees, some leaves in her hair.

Her hand drifted to the nape of her neck. 

Feeling, more timidly than she’d dare admit, the speckling of bumps, just under her skin. Jade, apparently. Embedded in a tattoo,  _ her _ tattoo.

When Veth and Jester (and their Warlock - no,  _ Fjord, _ some ways away from them) burst into laughter, she let her hand rub at her neck instead. Appearing self-conscious, maybe. 

She caught Jester’s eyes for a moment, looked away when she couldn’t  _ remember _ seeing her look so bemused.

“Oh. I’ve got this, just let me-”

The offending dead tree was no longer there. Instead it was propped up by Yasha. 

(Veth  _ screamed _ as this happened, but Yasha let her jump off her branch before heaving it off the path with a messy crash.)

“Thanks, Yasha,” Beau breathed, getting to her feet. Feeling something behind Yasha’s eyes she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to pry at. A puzzle piece she wasn’t sure she ever had, even before.

“So you… all got the uh. The tattoos together?” Yasha asked, in a tone that she just knew didn’t feel like her. Not just timid but subdued,  _ small,  _ despite how she towered from where she stood behind Jester. Her heart clenched. 

There was a story behind this. And it  _ hurt _ .

“Hey!” Veth almost bounced on the balls of her feet. “Once we all get off this island - or get everything back from the guacamole, we can get you one!”

Jester all but skipped through the area previously made hazardous by a maze of wood, placed a gentle hand on Yasha’s arm. “ _ Yes! _ Oh, and we have Orly with us too, and I bet avocado has, like, some  _ great  _ gems. I could design you a great tattoo, you know!”

“You would?” Yasha asked, a little brighter. 

Beau wanted to say _ yes, absolutely, of course she would, she’s  _ Jester. It felt like what she’d say- but without the whole story there she stayed quiet, let the other girls chime in. Agreed when they suggested flowers for her pattern, and smiled when Yasha suggested using ones in her book. 

(It also felt natural to just… not bring attention to it.)

She peered over Jester’s shoulder as they marched on to watch her sketch. Wondered if she’d noticed, before, how Jester worried the pencil in her teeth, how she borrowed one of Caleb’s when the lead broke.Wondered how often she’d watched her draw, if she’d memorized the speed and sure lines and how her eyes darted between her muse and her page. 

Made a note to do it more, now. Hell, all the time.

(She really,  _ really _ hoped Jester had designed her tattoo.)

\--

“Beau!”

‘Huh? Yeah, what’s up?“ She pivoted to find Jester a ways off, out of reach of the faint mist of droplets the reverse falls kicked up. The ever-present fog curled around her ankles, though, parted by her twitching tail. 

(She wasn’t too sure what that meant - it should have been a dead giveaway to  _ something _ , right?)

Jester cupped her hands around her mouth. “I found something! I want to show you!”

“Like, now?”

“Yes, Beau, now! Get over here!” 

She gave her a thumbs up. Relished seeing her grin - it was probably, what, the fifth time today? But it was still as wonderful as the first time she’d seen it that morning.

“You in trouble?”

She sputtered, almost tripped upright to glare at- Ceadaeus? No,  _ Caduceus _ . He hardly glanced up from some lily-like blooms he was examining from a safe distance, almost at eye level at this height. Looking very curious, far more than she would have expected having practically just met him this morning.

She snorted. “I- no, what would I be in trouble for?”

Veth and Caleb’s quiet talk of  _ water plane _ this and  _ pear _ l that got very quiet, she noticed. 

“I’m just going to talk to Jester. She wants to show me something, I bet it’s pretty.”

A snort. “I’d wager on it looking like a dick,” Caleb chuckled, “but of course. Call if you need help, Beauregard.”

Caduceus looked at her a little oddly at that. Not judging, just… searching.

Veth was just - giving her many winks and indiscreet thumbs up. She had  _ no _ clue what that was about and frankly hoped she’d never remember.

Both were more than enough to get Beau hustling with as much dignity as she could muster, which wasn’t much without a frame of reference. 

Jester greeted her eagerly when she reached the edge of the jungle, taking her hand. “Great, let’s go! We’ll be back soon you guys!” she added, loudly, to the remainder of the group. Then the forest consumed them. 

Jester _ ran _ and Beau was pulled along, gladly. The undergrowth batted at them as they flew by, their boots and legs soaked from the omnipresent fog and a stray bug or branch rocketing into their shoulders here and there. They almost stumbled, once or twice- Jester pulled them back up.

Muscle memory was a great thing - it didn’t care what was left in her head, and saved her a nasty fall when Jester suddenly stopped after a minute or two. 

“Right, we’re here!” There was something  _ off _ to her tone - again. Something she should have pinpointed, if she knew her half as well as she felt she did. All she had left was her gut telling her her smile was forced, her movements stiffer as she stepped aside and dropped her hand.

“Look, like, right there - under the mushrooms,” Jester prompted. 

Curious, Beau crouched, feeling the damp rotting leaves under one hand as she braced herself, peered down, and -

_ That was a very, very small dick statue.  _

She had no clue what that meant, other than that Caleb had been right and she’d been  _ very wrong _ .

(She also realized, just then, he’d called her Beau _ regard _ , not Beau.)

_ Shit _ .

“I - huh. What’s a little dick doing there? That’s cool!”

Silence.

“Did the stick just - get a hard on for that fungi?”

A sigh.

Beau dared look up.

_ Oh shiiiiit. _

Jester was pulled  _ in _ , every feature collapsing inward. Her clenched jaw, her fists, her tail, her eyes - her  _ eyes _ , struggling to hold back tears.

“I  _ knew _ it,” she hacked out. Smeared at an eye with a fist, turned around. “I knew something was wrong. I hoped it was cause, you know, you almost  _ died _ ,  _ again _ ,” Sniff. “That- that sounds bad. And I didn’t want to ask the Traveler what to do, because- because  _ yeah _ , and so I thought I’d try this. Because you  _ know _ I put these everywhere, Beau.”

“You  _ know, you should know.  _ Your tattoo- it’s  _ jade _ , Beau.”

Haltingly, Beau got to her feet. Another silent thanks to what her body knew but she didn’t, moving like she was approaching something skittish. 

“I  _ might _ have fucked up-”

Jester spun around. “ _ Might? _ ”

“ _ I did I did I did! _ ”

Beau swallowed thickly, held her gaze.

Fuck, she really didn’t like seeing this kind of hurt on her face for the first time.

“I absolutely fucked up, and I hardly know who I am but I know that I’m very stupid right about now.”

“You’re not stupid- you could have told me and you would _ know _ that!” Jester deflated, avoided Beau’s gaze long enough to find a gnarled root she decided to sit on.

“That you’re so smart, like really smart, just as smart as Caleb.”

Beau didn’t dare move, hardly dared blink. Standing still wasn’t her forte, though - she unfurled, upright, and scratched at her short hair. “I- fuck, Jester-”

“Jes. You call me Jes a lot, you know. Or Jessie.”

“Jes-” Beau tried it out. It felt wonderful to say, as easy as breathing but twice as sweet. A bit bitter, right now, knowing it probably gave her away, knowing she could have been using it this whole time. “Jes, I’m sorry. Can I just- talk about it? Please?” 

She held her breath.

“Okay.” Jester seemed to gather her strength, just enough to sit up and pat a mossy spot on her root.

Beau sat right there and not an inch closer. The root arched above the ground, ancient and rough where the moss didn’t grow, letting her legs swing freely.

_ Here goes nothing _ .

“I guess, part of it - I think it was to save your spell slots.”

Jester squinted. “Beau - there were  _ three  _ of us casting Greater Restoration.”

She threw up her hands. “And one big as hell hoarder with tentacles and fire, Jes. Who is angry at Fjord for something and is, like, _ super _ evil. Who knows what we’d need to do when shit goes down, and I didn’t know if we’d have time to rest between now and then.”

Beau smiled, a little, an attempt at reassurance. Closed her hands into fists. “I _ think _ I’m good with these. I figured that - well. If I forget, for now, until someone could bring me back, I could still use these.”

Jester huffed. “That doesn’t make  _ any _ sense, Beau.”

She furrowed her brows. “That’s not all of it?”

“I- no.” She searched the canopy, probably for a nice distraction hidden in the dappled shadows. Mulling over how to put words to his hesitation. It was tough. 

“I woke up, and I… yeah, I figured I’d forgotten stuff. Which felt weird as all hell-”

“I know, right?” Jester admitted softly. “Like part of you is just… out of reach. Like the waves got to them on the beach where you left them - and they’re just. Bobbing over there, but then they’re gone.”

Beau nodded. “Yeah, like that.”

“But then I saw you, and Fjord, and Caduceus, and Yasha, and-” she ran a hand over her face, dragging sweat with it.  _ She’d bet a gold piece tropical jungles weren’t her favorite _ . “You all looked so lost. Like you’d had part of you taken by this thing, and like not remembering  _ hurt _ .”

Jester dipped her head to one side. “But not… for you?”

Beau snorted. “I - No, I was a bit relieved, even. I think there are a lot of things I’d rather forget.”

Deep breath. “Or, I guess. Things I was scared to face, but now they don’t _ exist _ in my  _ head _ so it’s hard to worry about them.”

She had a hunch. A gut feeling. There was something in there she’d rather forget. That one of the things she’d had slip through her fingers was better left behind - that it might bite her if she picked it back up. 

Other things, too, that breathed when her heart beat, a little too strong and a little too  _ there _ . Soft and wonderful and too close to her vitals, threatening to tear her insides apart if they broke free.

Things that mostly felt a whole lot like Jester, but with pieces of all of them, too. Picked up over who knows how long of just being together ( _ yes _ , everyone but  _ her _ knew, that was part of the  _ point _ ). Collected, stolen from all over, nestled into her heart like a greedy magpie’s treasure trove. (Or, you now, Vokodo. But a magpie was a nicer image - still a thief, still a scoundrel, buy way more redeemable, she hoped.)

Jester had grown quiet. Both startled at an obnoxious birdcall, shared a little laugh. Then-

“You tried to do something like that. Sacrifice yourself for the rest of us, I mean.” She frowned. “A hag - you offered to - to suffer for us, to not _ be _ with us anymore, if it meant Nott -  _ Veth _ \- could have her body back. It’s like that again.”

“What happened?”

Jester found a little smile, winked. “You’ll know when you get your memories back. I promise, it’s  _ reaaally _ good.”

Fair enough. Beau conceded the point. “Okay. I think it’s… I’m scared of losing whatever this is. The all of  _ us,  _ I can’t even name it.”

(Jester mumbled something that sounded like Mighty Fine, but that couldn’t be right?) 

“Man, I didn’t know what my name was and I trusted you guys right off the bat.” She pulled up one knee, rested her chin against it, peered at Jester sideways. Decided it was too much, tried looking for whatever bird that was earlier.

“I think it was easier to not know what I’d lost. Instead of watching it just… end somehow, someday. When stuff like this-.” she made a sweeping gesture, almost fell backwards off the log. Jester caught her, shoved her upright, let her hand stay there on her back. “- and that. When it stops happening and we go our own ways.”

Jester scooted closer. “Ya know, we have a house together, all of us.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm! Big, big mansion our friend Essek gave us.” (Beau felt something sharp and sour hit her in the gut at the name) “We’re roommates together, there. And everywhere we go.”

“You’re a great roommate- you don’t hog the blankets or roll over. You snore, though, but I think it’s nice.”

Beau snorted. “Thanks.”

“I mean - what I  _ mean _ is that, you know. A house is pretty permanent.” Jester looked at her, really  _ looked  _ at her, like she’d practiced at this, at getting walls to crumble under her gaze. “We won’t let you go, Beau. We’re the Mighty Nein, and we’re going to be together for a long, long time, and Caduceus and I will bring anyone back if dying means they skip out early.”

Beau’s heart skipped like a stone on water- heavy, spaced hits to her chest that eventually sank into something rippling and cool and  _ right _ . 

She glanced at the space between them, their hands making imprints on the moss. Ran a thumb over the green. 

Speaking of green…

“Hey, Jes, quick question, but what the  _ fuck _ does my tattoo look like?”

Beau ran a hand over where she’d felt it before. She’d traced it a few times, while they’d walked on. Couldn’t make sense of it when the dust particles were sometimes so small, hidden by leather to boot.

Jester smiled. “Oh, it’s _ beautiful _ , hang on-”

She turned them around, Beau now straddling their seat while Jester leaned over. Had her shrug off her coat (it was too hot for this weather anyways, or was that just her?), pulled a bit at the bands of leather looped over her skin. 

“I can’t see all of it, cause you were kinda naked when you had it done - (“ _ Nice. _ ”) - and you’re kinda  _ not _ naked now, but I know the rest by memory, so it’s fine.”

Beau felt sure fingers, an artist’s steadiness, at the nape of her neck. Focused on her breathing, and Jester’s words: “Here you have this, like,  _ really _ nice filigree. Molly’s cards were great, and you’d had Orly use them as a reference for the pattern.” 

The feather-light touch spread over her shoulders and neck in a sweeping gesture, a little firmer over her vestments. Drew them tight into swirls, into sweeping waves and turns. Beau had no idea how accurate they were. She decided the truth in Jester’s hands was worth more than whatever was etched into her skin.

“It’s all this, like, great green,” she continued. Took a moment- her hand left Beau’s back to return in front of her, with a scrap of emerald moss torn from their perch, and a brilliant smattering of pale lichen. “A bit like these, but more, you know, shiny.”

“And here-” she opened her palm in the center of her back, just below where her shoulder blades rested. “- you have Molly’s all-seeing eye, just about right where he’d had it. You were, like, really serious about getting the placement right, had Veth hold up a mirror to make sure the eye was where it should be.”

A beat.

“You… don’t remember Molly, do you?” and “Wait, Jes! Couldn’t we have just used a mirror for this?”

She felt Jester’s head drop to her shoulder, the cool touch of one horn on her neck. “Ah, fuck.”

“Molly was...” Jester mouthed a few different words (Beau knew, feeling the breath of them, just shy of her skin), settled on one that made her smile. “Pretty much a god, really. Purple tiefling, very sure of himself, he taught me to read cards. So much fun,, a  _ super _ good liar. He had a coat with eyes, and tattoos with eyes, and two very cool swords.”

Beau’s brows furrowed. “Sound like an asshole. I don’t think I’d have liked him.”

Jester’s horn curved up along her skin, almost touching her jawline. Then down again, and up, and down as she shook her head. Beau hoped she couldn’t feel her gulp. (What she really needed right now were memories of how she’d survived this long.)

“Nope, not at first. He called  _ you _ an asshole.”

“ _ Charming _ .”

Jester snorted, turned it into a sigh.

“He died, trying to save Fjord, Yasha and me. You were there. It hurt,  _ so much _ , to lose him - but he taught us all a lot, and I think he’d be happy to see you’re less of an asshole now.” 

Jester’s voice cracked, just a bit, but judging by the soft beat of her breath it was an old scar. Mostly healed, straining when she stretched the memory like this.

Beau scooted away, gingerly. Swung her leg back over, a patch of bark free of lichen dragging over the fabric. Scooted back over until they were thigh to thigh, dragging tiny leaves with her.

“Thanks for telling me, Jes. You could have just… told me to wait, ‘til you do your thing and it comes back.”

“No, it’s not bad. It’s…  _ nice _ to have a reason to talk about it.” She fiddled, now, with something Beau couldn’t quite see in her quick hands. “We’ve been so, like. All over, all kinds of busy, we haven’t really talked about important stuff much.”

A thought crossed Beau’s mind. Indulgent, very selfish, very greedy, in line with what she was pretty sure was true about her, at least in part. 

“Can you - can you tell me about me?” About  _ us _ ? “Before you give me a pat on the head and I just  _ know _ .” 

She guessed Jester would not let her wait until tomorrow, or until they’d dealt with this Vokodo-avocado-guacamole problem. Given how Jester gently held a trinket of some kind (a holy symbol? She was pretty sure she was a cleric.), she also guessed she was right.  _ So much for the spell slot excuse _ .

The little archway was slipped away, into a pocket on her belt. Its place in her hands was taken by Beau’s, Jester taking them in her own easily.

“If you want me to, sure!”

.

Jester hum’d, rocking back and forth as much as she could without steadying herself with her hands. She squeezed Beau’s, probably a reflex to avoid toppling over.  _ Probably, yeah. _

“Okay, okay, so: your name is Beauregard Lionett, you’re an expositor of the Cobalt Soul- which is, like, a big deal. You’re like a super spy.” 

“A spy?” Beau quirked a brow. “Wouldn’t my cover be blown? You know, a firblog, a half-orc and a tiefling walk into a bar, it’s almost a joke.”

“Nah, most of us can disguise ourselves pret-ty good.”

Jester waved off her concern with one hand, letting go to push herself off their seat, dust off scraps of moss and bark-dust. 

Beau missed the contact ( _ greedy greedy greedy, _ with a hand now on her arm), swallowed any complaint. It was almost sad how normal it felt, to want more, to shut it down quickly. Jester was thrumming with energy, now, a sight to behold that needed to pace and move while her audience watched, enraptured. 

“Anyways! You’re, like,  _ so _ good at fighting. You just get to the bad guy and  _ pop-pop _ !” Jester tossed a pair of punches at a waxy tree, bumping them lightly. Ducked to avoid an imaginary counterstrike.

“And when you’re hurt, I heal you.” Spiralling around, Jester was in front of her again in a breath, almost reaching out before pulling back her hand. 

Beau wondered if it was the spot that gave her a little trouble, earlier. A band of scar tissue, thick as her thumb, that stung like a bee when she stretched just  _ so _ in the morning. 

“Hang on, didn’t  _ Yasha _ heal me yesterday? And Fjord?” 

(You smartass what the _ fuck _ was that for?)

Apparently it was to get a rise out of Jester: her chin jutted out, eyebrows ever so slightly downturned. Something a little sharper danced across her features. “Well, yeah, but I’m a cleric, and I’ve healed you, like, a  _ bunch _ of times. I’m very good at keeping you from dying.”

“Like this time.” She poked the spot, playfully - Beau buckled, ticklish. Jester smiled broadly at her laugh “You’ll remember soon and you’ll be like, ‘omg, Jester, thank you SO much for that time you healed me.’”

“Oh my god, thanks for healing me, Jester, I owe you my life,” Beau snickered, earning another poke and a laugh.

Jester stopped. “Oh, Beau- oh my gosh did you forget that you like _ girls _ ?”

Beau sputtered. “No! No no no, I didn’t - I don’t think anyone - _ I _ could forget that. Cause you know.  _ Girls _ .”

Girls, in that more specifically  _ Jester _ had her wrapped around her finger. In that, for all her curiosity, she didn’t  _ mind  _ not knowing around Jester, because she filled in the gaps nicely with the dimples of her cheeks. That sneaking urge to poke and prod and leave no stone unturned… it was almost statieted, just with the morsels she found joy in sharing. She could forget all of who she was and re-invent it in the Mighty Nein, and hope and pray to whatever god would listen that Jester would love this version of her, too. A Beauregard shaped by what she no longer had, starting on day one with all the love she could hoard in her pockets.

Actually, scratch that. 

The latent fear that still churned her stomach, stirring at her worries like a stew, it all broiled away around Jester.

She wanted to know _ why _ . Very, very badly. She wanted their history, their quiet moments, their inside jokes, the heart-stopping fears and the jolts of relief to restart it. It turned into a different kind of butterfly-stew, bubbling and fluttering in her insides enough to make her a little sick and delirious. She wanted it, all of it, so badly.

Badly enough that she really needed to think about anything else.

(Maybe, maybe just a little wanted to indulge. See what Jester noticed about her, if it was half as much as she’d noticed in a day of not knowing, hope she was  _ something _ important in her eyes, too.)

“Yasha and uh. The druid - they make it a bit hard to forget. Cause wow, you know?”

( _ Beauregard Lio-something you absolute  _ coward  _ and  _ dumbass _ - _ )

Jester nodded brightly. “Oh my gosh, I know right? They’ve just got these  _ muscles- _ ” She flexed, mostly as a joke, but Beau realized that Jester was surprisingly buff, actually, and that she _ really  _ needed to change the subject.

“Right, right- what about. I dunno- hobbies, family?”

“You like to read, a lot,” Jester said. Rolled the thought over in her mind, amended the statement: “Well, no, I think you like _ learning  _ a lot. New stuff, cool stuff, stuff you could know that lots of people don’t. You use your jeweler’s kit too, sometimes. Clean our rings when you’re on watch, or weigh and grade some gems we’d found.”

There was a pause, then, filled by the jungle without hesitation. Echoes of birdsong, creaking branches, bird _ like _ hoots and cackles.

Beau let it sit, spent a moment figuring out what some of them were. 

She realized Jester was  _ hesitating _ . 

“Jes? Are you okay?” Had family been the wrong thing to ask about?

She reached out, gently, to touch her hand. Just to get Jester to look at her. Instead, she saw something in her eyes get steely- now it was her wrists that were held, pulled gently. Beau complied, slid off the root to stand in front of Jester.

Jester seemed to chew her words. Swallowed them. Then: “Your family - your  _ dad _ \- is probably why you didn’t tell me. That you’d forgotten. He’s  _ awful _ . I didn’t get it, at first, ‘cause my momma is the  _ best _ , but I talked to Caleb. He talked me through it pretty good.”

Beau glanced down at their hands, stamped out that fear again and took Jester’s hands in her own. Dragged them down to sit in a patch of ferns - her head was starting to hurt. 

“Well, I guess that explains some things.”

“You should probably, like. Have some tea with Caduceus when this is all done. He’s good at helping with this kind of stuff.”

Beau’s brows furrowed. “Caduceus? The firbolg, right?” She lifted her hands in appeasement when Jester shot her a look. “Look I  _ know _ who he is, right? Right in my gut. It just… takes a minute. Like I’d just heard his name for the first time. Cause I kinda did, this morning.”

A hum. “Yeah, it’s a weird feeling- like, I _ completely _ forgot my birth name.” A snort “I almost called Veth something like Bethany for a second.”

“I just knew I had a guy’s name. That’s all I had to go on this morning! Then you called me Beau and I was like, I can work with this.” Beau laughed.

Jester’s grin was almost wickedly pleased, leaning back until Beau was just about scared she’d fall into the ferns. Instead, a frond tangled in the curve of a horn, earning itself a smile from Jester, too. “But you didn’t forget me, huh?”

“I - huh.” Beau thought hard on the morning. Of how the names of the Mighty Nein writhed just out of reach so often, picked up and herded back where they belonged when she realized they’d wandered from her mind. Jester’s was always there, though, at the tip of her tongue, no farther.

“Actually, yeah, you’re right. I didn’t.”

She felt a pang of guilt for - for who? - for Yasha, and how her wife’s name eluded her, earlier. Her  _ wife _ . Maybe this was just easier because Jester was here, by her side or not far.

She wondered where Yasha’s wife was, if she could be hidden by this fog. Maybe waiting for her to return from this, in a nice house (with flowers?) somewhere. She deserved that much, at least.

(Why, then, did she have a distinct memory of flirting with her the day before? Of something indulgent in Yasha’s eyes, gently carrying her, draping her shawl over her?  _ Oh fuck was Beau a _ homewrecker _??? _ )

“Hey, Jes, please tell me I didn’t flirt with a married woman.” 

She started at the panic in her tone. Took a second and shook her head, brushed away the fern. “No, no Beau. Yasha’s wife - Zuala - she’s. Gone.” Tried to lighten the mood, poked at her side. “But she does consider herself, like, married  _ forever _ , so that’s still super weird of you.”

Beau groaned. Leaned into Jester’s shoulder, mindful of her horn, decided to rest her forehead against the cool keratin. “Fuck, I’m  _ such _ a shit-stirrer.”

“Yup.” She nodded, a careful tilt to it. Beau realized Jester had probably learned to move her head delicately, when so close, to avoid poking others with her horns. She wondered who she’d learned that from, figured she  _ knew _ .

The silver that swayed from their tips came very close to her eye, winking in the warm light. Beau reached to touch it.

Movement drew her attention downward - to two little beady eyes sitting snugly above a little snout. 

“Hey what the FUCK-”

Whatever the  _ fuck _ it was blinked and bristled, all unruly fur and spindly limbs. 

_ And then it bit her _ .

Beau swore, rolled to her feet with her fists up. Pain flashed through her hand where this hairy demon hissed and gnawed at her hand, dangling there. 

Beau shook her hand, trying to send it into the ferns - it only bit down harder.

“Ow, what the FUCK?”

“ _ Sprinkle, NO! _ ”

Jester sprang upright grabbed the creature and pulled it off. It almost took a chunk of Beau’s hand with it - or, it felt that way. Checking the wound quickly, Beau found blood beading where tiny, sharp teeth had pierced her skin, but nothing serious. 

“Hey Jester? Since when do you have a sentient hairball with  _ teeth _ living in your hood???”

She giggled, stuffing the thing back where he belonged. “This is Sprinkle! He’s a crimson weasel, and my pet. Usually he’s super friendly.” It got comfortable, poked its heat out and glared daggers at Beau. Sprinkle was currently  _ not _ super friendly.

“Hey, do we know if animals are affected by this too?”

Jester let out a low whine. “Oh nooooo, poor Sprinkle! He can’t remember you and you can’t remember him!” She fished some crumbs of something that might have once been flaky and golden-brown out of a pocket, stuffed it into her hood where Sprinkle was huddled. 

They waited a moment until the weasel had calmed down.

Beau wiped off the blood on her pants. “All the more reason to nail this Vokodo - (“Avocado!”) -  _ avocado _ soon.”

“And get you back to normal.”

“And - yeah.”

Jester shuffled closer, placed her hands on Beau’s knees where she sat cross-legged in this patch of ferns. 

“I - Beau, look. I get that there are some things you don’t wanna know. And that you’re scared you’ll care too much and if things go bad they’ll go really, really bad.”

She gulped. “But- like. We need you, too. We need how smart you are, and your jokes, and your notes, and your stinky socks.  _ All of you _ . We’ll keep you safe if you let us, okay?” 

Jester reached out, a soft glow the color of seafoam drifting like mist from her palm-

Beau caught her hand. “Nope, hang on. One more thing.”

There was a noise at the back of Jester’s throat - part gleeful, part confused. “You want to talk more?”

“Yeah, about  _ you _ .”

“Me?” Jester’s eyes widened - Beau’s narrowed.

“Yes, you. I - look, I hardly knew what I was wearing earlier. But I know  _ something _ was bothering you, after you were healed.” She crossed her arms. “Fess up.”

Jester smiled - the off smile, again. Like a tree growing sideways, a floating stone, a reverse waterfall - it was something sideways to what nature intended. “It’s nothing.”

“You’re avoiding the subject.”

“Mmhm.” She nodded. Looked down just as Beau caught the sheen of tears in her eyes. Something swelled fast and terrified in her throat. “‘Cause it’s nothing.”

“Jester -  _ Jes _ , please. Look at me - what’s wrong?” She tried to tilt her chin up, ended up letting her hands slide up her cheek when Jester tucked her head down. 

“Nope, nuh-uh. This is about _ you _ and this will all be _ fine _ after Travelercon.” (What the fuck was a Travelercon?)

The sight of tears in her eyes was more horrifying than that tentacled monster they were doomed to face, or that thing that struck her soul cold yesterday, or a possibly-rabid weasel lunging at her.

She wanted, desperately, to make it right. To fix it, with what blunt tools she had in her emotional arsenal. Whatever this was, she wanted to punch a hole in it and patch up Jester’s heart.

But she wasn’t the healer - there were a lot of roles Jester had given her, in the shade of the trees and the swaying ferns, but that wasn’t one of them.

Beau sighed. Swallowed her pride, her fear, all these things that just wouldn’t do good now no matter how badly she wanted them to.

“Fine. If you don’t want to talk - it’s okay. I trust you. Just-” She ran a hand through her hair, scrubbed at the sides stubbornly. “Just please take your own advice. We’re here for you too, I know it. I can listen to you vent, or spar it out, or give you advice, or hell, just give you a hug if you need it.” Took her main weapons, her fists - uncurled them, placed a hand on Jester’s shoulder, gave it a squeeze.

A nod.

“Can I take you up on that last one, Beau?”

She opened her arms, for the first time in her memory, and Jester just kind of sank into them. They curled their arms around eachother, Beau rocked them back and forth gently.

She wasn’t sure how to  _ be _ like this - it felt like an inherently  _ Beau _ thing to awkwardly pat her back, worry about getting too close or being too far, only to say ‘fuck it’ and just hold and it felt _ right _ . Because Jester sure was hugging her like this was the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it could be, on this god-awful grab-bag of _ bad _ that was this island, 

Jester pulled her closer, over her shoulders. The grit of her tattoo pulled as she did.

Then everything came back.

\--

(Jester didn’t design her tattoo.)

(But that was alright. Maybe next time, with something more fine than jade.)

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This could have been polished more, but I wanted it out before Thursday- I know we're all scared for Cad right now, but I worry a lot about Jester in general and always like squinting at Beau so here we are.
> 
> (Quick question, am I the only one who is sitting here very concerned that Jester failed that save after the Traveler promised he didn't want her (and to a degree her friends) losing her memories? After she was so distraught the night before? It didn't feel right looking into that here, but oh boy I Fear. Please Jester talk about it ;;)


End file.
